


The Daily Grind

by Maya_Koppori



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Lawyer Laurent, M/M, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Reincarnation, coffee shop AU, i speak my language better than you speak mine sweetheart, mentioned jokaste, mentioned kastor, mentioned nikandros, tHIS IS SO SHORT, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 18:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12018132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maya_Koppori/pseuds/Maya_Koppori
Summary: "Laurent felt bad for throwing an unfamiliar language at him. He couldn't blame the man for trying to give good customer service. But then the dimpled smile came back in full force and the man replied, in flawless French, 'I speak your language better than you speak mine, sweetheart.'"In which Laurent is a stressed out lawyer just trying to finalize his court case, and an annoyingly attractive barista won't stop bothering him.





	The Daily Grind

Laurent had settled into a comfortable routine; he woke up at dawn, strolled down the avenue from his hotel to the cafe on the corner with his laptop case slung over his shoulder, and sat at an outdoor table until opening. By now the owner knew his morning order by heart, and would have his coffee out to him by the time the shop opened to the public. He also knew to keep a tab running, because Laurent wasn't going to move from that spot at least until lunchtime, and he was going to need a lot of caffeine to do it. 

He couldn't say what exactly had drawn him to this particular place. It was small and not often crowded, which surprised Laurent due to the quality of the food and drink offered. Then again, this was Greece. Any tourists would want to have their fun somewhere closer to the beaches or the monuments, not a relatively unknown town with fewer people than a typical university. But that made it that much easier for Laurent to get his work done in peace. This case was important and he only had two days left to-

“Another cup?” a voice asked. 

Laurent smothered a scowl and looked up with as little venom as he could manage, pulling out one of his earbuds. One of the cafe employees stood by his table, smiling sheepishly. He had a dimple in his left cheek, not that Laurent was paying attention. Because he wasn't. He was annoyed at once again being interrupted. 

“Please,” he said in stilted Greek. “I will tell you when to stop.” It was irritating that the language barrier meant that he couldn't properly convey what he meant- to just keep the drinks coming, but in a way that wouldn't seem too awfully rude. In an unusual fit of impulsivity, he switched to French and said, “In fact sweetheart, you might as well just keep my credit card. I won't be needing it until I get through this damn case file.” Wanting to end the conversation, Laurent went to readjust his earbuds and go back to work. 

The man blinked rapidly several times, eyes going wide, and for a moment Laurent felt bad for throwing an unfamiliar language at him. He couldn't blame the man for trying to give good customer service. But then the dimpled smile came back in full force and the man replied, in flawless French, “I speak your language better than you speak mine, sweetheart.”

Both earbuds slipped from Laurent’s flaming red ears and into his lap. “How on earth-?”

“I took a lot of French in high school,” the man grinned, smug as a cat with a canary in its jaws. “I take it you're studying abroad?”

That shocked a laugh from Laurent. “I wish. I’ve been working on a case for the past two weeks, and my clients are… a pleasure to work with.”

“Ooh. That bad?”

“Yes, actually.” Laurent tapped the folder next to his laptop with thinly veiled disgust. “Divorce cases are always particularly nasty, but this one… I couldn't make it up if I tried. The wife is off somewhere on an island recuperating from the falling out, and the husband refuses to meet me in person before the court date, most likely because he knows he's in the wrong and doesn't want to be lectured at again. They're both communicating via phone and email, but only with me. That means I have a lot of duplicated information to sort through and there's only one of me and-” 

“Thus the caffeine?” the man interrupted. “And the fact that you're strung out enough to give a stranger all of the details of a court case?”

Laurent took a breath, steadying himself. He had just  _ rambled _ . He didn't  _ ramble.  _ It was entirely unprofessional. “Yes. My apologies.”

“I won't tell if you won't. But maybe take a break? I think Nik just finished the new batch of  _ bougatsa.  _ I’ll get you one- no credit card needed.”

Laurent raised his eyebrows, a small smile making its way onto his face. He held out a hand. “Laurent.”

The man’s hand was enormous, but also rough and warm. He had a firm grip. “Damianos,” he grinned. “Call me Damen.”

No one strolling through the quiet streets that early morning would see any change. They would continue walking their dog or fighting through their morning jog or biking to work with no way of knowing the cosmic impact of two souls finding one another again after centuries of separation.

“Fuck,” Damen gasped. “I missed you.”

“Fuck,” Laurent agreed. “I’m your brother’s lawyer.”

**Author's Note:**

> And then Laurent gouged Kastor and Jokaste for everything they owned, the end.


End file.
